Jocheyfer's 20th birthday arrived with unexpected warmth.
For once, life felt... light.
Movies. Dinner. Laughter.
His family made it feel special – his little brother clinging to him with joy, his mother fussing over his favorite dessert. Even his dad, usually quiet, cracked a few jokes.
It was perfect.
Almost.
They returned home late, tired but happy.
Jocheyfer went straight to his room. His mom carried the little one upstairs. His dad stepped out to park the car.
Then – the doorbell rang.
A sharp chime.
Once.
His dad opened the door.
No one.
A few minutes passed.
The bell rang again.
He opened it – still no one.
Jocheyfer and his mother exchanged uneasy glances.
"What's going on?" his mom asked.
"Probably just kids messing around," his dad muttered, brushing it off.
Jocheyfer flopped onto his bed and began scrolling on his phone, but the warmth of the day was gone.
Replaced by a thick, unnatural silence.
He called out casually:
"Mom?"
No answer.
He paused.
The air felt wrong.
He looked toward his door – it was slightly ajar.
And in the crack… someone was watching.
"Dad?" he called, his voice shaky.
A figure stepped into the doorway.
"Just making sure everything's alright," the voice replied –
Calm.
Too calm.
Hollow.
Then, the man stepped fully into the room.
His face… not quite right.
The skin too tight.
The smile too steady.
"Got any gifts today?" the man asked, almost playfully.
Jocheyfer's mouth went dry.
His heart thundered.
That voice – it didn't belong to his father.
In the pale moonlight, the stranger raised something in his hand.
Then, with a swift motion, he threw it.
It landed on the floor with a wet thud.
Jocheyfer stared.
It was his father's severed head.
His scream caught in his throat – torn apart by panic.
He opened his mouth, but no sound came.
Only a silent, breathless horror.
The man grinned wider.
"Happy birthday, Jocheyfer.
Never give your address to strangers."
Then he moved forward –
And the stabbing began.
Once.
Twice.
Again. And again.
Blood painted the walls.
And the gift was given.